camp YOU AIN'T GOTTA LIE [♱] RETURN FROM GATHERING

Sharpshadow's limbs are stiff as she walks.

She still hears WindClan — both the boom of Sunstar's voice, and the thorned remarks their Medicine Cat left for them; uttered with such a quiet calm that she thinks, you could only feel stupid being angry at, but even stupider not listening to. Chilledstar gave StarClan all the attention of a gnat buzzing around their ear. ShadowClan now departed as a whole with a shrug and a roll of their eyes; and as the cat with shadow in their name. As a Lead Warrior, part of that is now... her.

Sharpshadow chews on it for a long while. Chews and chews and her throat won't let her swallow, but she shouldn't say anything. Shouldn't do anything. Chilledstar is the leader. What right did he have to question them...? He is far from deputy; far from a good warrior, despite that... He should shut up. Forget. Not care. That's what everyone else was doing. he should just copy everyone else. That's what worked for him half the time.

Except his eyes are wide and his fur is spiked; and even as the walk home, through ThunderClan's territory and all — he feels like bolting. They are mere steps from the bramble walls of camp when the dam bursts. " C-can I ask? I'm about to ask — What... " ...What level of word is best here? What lengths should she go to to express her disbelief. After that, maybe only one term is truly appropriate. " What in the name of StarClan was that? " his voice rips out louder than he ever intended it to, but here they are — here he is, about to be exiled, probably.

She doesn't have it in her to stare Chilledstar in the eye. He looks for something else. Anything else really. Anything that won't look back at him. " "RiverClan, you have ShadowClan's support" ? " Sharpshadow parrots Chilledstar's departing words. " That and — and — and everything? You're practically begging WindClan to declare war! " She can't see faces. She refuses to see faces, but... did any of them feel the same? Did any of them agree? Or would she be shunned, left to talk to... just Forestshade and Flintwish, probably. " I just want WindClan to not steal from us. We don't "support" other Clans! "
 
  • Like
Reactions: FLINTWISH
their tail lashed back and forth with a snort leaving them as they listen to sharpshadow speak. upset. he's upset. maybe rightfully so but they refuse to let themself be talked to ask if they're some kit that does not know what they're doing. they grin coldly, teeth clacking as they speak every single word very clearly so that it cannot be misunderstood as their words seem to have been.

"you wish to question my words, then at least have the decency to look at me when you do."

their anger is still stewing, they think, and that's not a good thing. never a good thing.

"you are right. we do not support other clans. but they don't know that, do they? they do not know of the lies I speak. as if I would ever truly support or even care about supporting a bunch of murderers. windclan or not, that is what riverclan is. but I hate windclan more. I always will. and if that means I must lie and say I support those fish-heads, then so be it."

they didn't really need to explain anything to anyone, especially not now. but they are. damn them for wanting her to understand.

"lilacfur. you should have at least hit someone else. and if you were hellbent on hitting wolfsong, a medicine cat, then you could have at least put your claws away, as I did."

they snort. how painfully annoying was it to deal with all of this. it didn't matter in the end, now did it? windclan would continue to break the code and starclan would do nothing about it but get upset at cats for retaliating. espeically when it came to shadowclan.

"starclan hates us enough as it is. hitting a medicine cat surely will give us grief this leafbare."

they'd very well kill a cat for doing the same to starlingheart. but that's neither here nor there, now is it?

———————---***i try to live in black and white***———————---

  •  
  • black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
    47 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
    they / them pronouns
    aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking
    child of JAGGED and RAVEN
    shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
    mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 
  • Nervous
Reactions: SHARPSHADOW

Lilacfur hadn't said a word. After the air shook and rumbled, a clear warning sign from StarClan themselves, the molly had no desire to push the limit- she already satisfied herself seeing Wolfsong's fur stain with crimson iron.

It would be thick to suggest the tension within her Clanmates wasn't palpable. Lilacfur could see it, feel it, syrup thick in the swampy air. It was silent their entire return but she could feel the heat of eyes boring into her fur. They could say and believe whatever they wished about her, Lilacfur did not regret her actions. She wouldn't lie or pander to their fears for how StarClan may hold it over ShadowClan.

ShadowClan has never been in their favor, what worse can they do that hasn't been done before?

Sharpshadow's voice flooded the dam of tension before she could place a single paw through the brambles. Her shoulders fell as did the breath in her lungs, a slow exhale from her nose as she leaned back on her haunches. Her ear twitched as Chilledstar addressed her amidst their stewing.

"Hm." Curt in her wordless reply, a short hum of acknowledgement.




  • 82313904_EOrjiqreK2nTja8.png
  • LILACFUR she/her, 20 moons, mother to marblekit and sycamorekit
    lh lilac rosette with yellow eyes (carrying cinnamon, solid), a torn ear and claw marks beside her eye.
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
    penned by this loser@gonkpilled on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
*+:。.。 Duckshimmer padded after her clanmates, tail whisking back and forth with the thrum of energy that coursed through her. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, and she was happy to lap at it despite having no target of her own to dispel this newfound volatility. Starclan, how she wished a war had broken out, then Shadowclan would have had the rightful chance to take back Orchidbloom's honor. Although Duckshimmer ensured her expression remained carefully neutral on the quiet walk back home, there was no hiding the way she shot glances at her leader, periwinkle eyes both filled with endless worry and sparkling admiration. Chilledstar, selfless as they were, couldn't be titled as one who would take grief lying down.

Duckshimmer listens with perked ears as Chilledstar responds to Sharpshadow's woes. Poor Sharpshadow, Duckshimmer thinks with a twinge of pity in her chest, assuming war wasn't already on the table the second that filth crossed their borders. Stepping forward, Duckshimmer would aim to lay her tail upon Sharpshadow's shoulders, murmuring gently, "Do not fret so much, sweetheart, so long as Windclan keeps those ashy mitts of theirs on the right side of the border, there will be no true cause for war. Besides, don't forget, Sunstar and Wolfsong deserve so much worse for what their patrol did to Orchidbloom" To steal a woman's prettiest feature, Duckshimmer trembled with rage. She wished more than ever that she could've joined Lilacfur in an assault against those rabbit-hearts.

Although Duckshimmer would never dare disagree with Chilledstar, the woman would shoot Lilacfur a warm smile. For a molly who betrayed Shadowclan by having kits with a murderer, at least in their moment of need she still knew to defend her home. Starclan would surely forgive her for the transgression against medicine cats, after all, how blessed was Wolfsong when he was mates with a walking omen?




  • GENERAL:
    Duckshimmer
    DFAB— She/Her — Bisexual
    33 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
    Mother to Singepaw, Swallowpaw and Sneezepaw
    Shadowclan — Warrior



    COMBAT:
    Physically medium | mentally hard
    Attack in bold #ffa98f
    injuries: None currently
 

dd7bu7q-b4321200-16fb-4177-91c8-a0b0cd978ca5.gif
.·:*¨༺🕷༻¨*:·. The walk back is tense, the silence brimming with emotion. Briarthorn keeps herself a good distance from the walking council, having no interest in becoming entangled in their qualms, unspoken or not.
The latter wouldn’t come until Briarthorn could practically taste the sweet slumber that awaited her in the warriors den, when Sharpshadow’s outburst draws all attention back to her clans council. Lead warriors, morale boosters. So much for that, when it seems only the medicine cats of the forest know how to keep their head on straight. What does that say for the cats who are responsible for guidance? Leadership?
The ebony warrior comes to a slow, her head rolling with the weight of her thoughts that swim around. They do not know of the lies I speak Chilledstar replies, a deep sigh spilling from a slivered maw. So, the leaders were purely taking sides for what, because they could not hold their ground without a superficial team?
Lilacfurs response to it all was underwhelming, and Briarthorn no longer has any tolerance for tonight, for hearing futile ploys and emotion-fueled nonsense. "Hard times are not the wrath of our ancestors." Blaming earth-bound woes on dead warriors would do no one any favors, and it went against Briarthorns core philosophy, only you were responsible for your downfalls. It’s what she had recited to the apprentices who fretted failing their warrior assessments, her peers that kicked the dirt after a bad hunt. "There’s no pride for our clan to be found tonight." A thought her bleary mind draws out in a low, air-laced voice. Letting one’s emotions get the best of them was only a vulnerability, and it’s all the young warrior had seen tonight. With a dismissive sweep of her tail, Briarthorn would break away from the gathering-goers, in search of another face that wouldn’t be spouting nonsense, or nothing at all.




  • BRIARTHORN she/her, warrior of shadowclan, 12 moons.
    slender, lean-muscled black she-cat with sharp hazel eyes & large ears.
    daughter of Forestshade && Vulturemask ࿏ sister to Screechpaw && Sweetpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by Noor@toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

RiverClan and ShadowClan working together, Chilledstar disputing it, Lilacfur hitting a medicine cat - each new piece of information sent Ferndance's head tilting in a new direction. A sleepless night caused a tired glaze to form over the cinnamon tabby's eyes as she moved closer to the gathering patrol, walking right past them to count her children as they returned. Bloodpaw.... Shadepaw... and Bonepaw had stayed home, the cinnamon tabby likely glued to his side. Her shoulders sagged in relief, and, content that she would not have to fret over another kitten, Ferndance's attention once more settled onto the adults. They continued to speak of the gathering and her emerald eyes squinted at the names listed by Duckshimmer; Sunstar and Wolfsong. Briarthorn spoke next, ashamed of ShadowClan, and Ferndance ran her tongue over her teeth as if the gossip was a juicy morsel. "I'm sorry... what? What happened?" All the moving parts were confusing, but Briarthorn made it clear - something had gone down, and Ferndance was not happy being left out.
 
NOTE: mobile post!

Her head nearly snaps to meet her leader, ears flat and fur bristling. It's the silent, standard elitism that Shadowaclan's higher ups had, to look at you down their nose as id you were lesser. To worry about whether they had eye - contact as they're criticized rather than all of the stupid shit they said. Fangs pinch down on the rubber - black of her lip, witholding her hiss; keeping herself ShadowClan for a little bit longer. It's one of the stupidest thing's she's ever heard. If it means you must lie —? but you didn't! " she screeches. " There — there aren't two sides, like WindClan and don't like WindClan! All you did it make it — make it sound like that! What if WindClan tries to invade us before we and RiverClan can invade them? "

Lilacfur is subsequently scolded, and her reply, one that Sharpshadow swings her head around to hear, is as underwhelming as it could've been. The warrior scoffs, a disbelieving gaze making its way back to Chilledstar. Only the touch of Duckshimmer's tail intercepts her; makes her flinch hard. " No true cause? " he parrots in disbelief. He stares holes into Lilacfur's skull. Repeats again, deadpan, " No true cause. "

Briarthorn seems resolute in her view. Though it was for a different reason, Sharpshadow was relieved to see another cat tossing around more than whatever! It's fine! " Who cares what they deserve! " he hisses. " WindClan has practically launched wars for fun. Why are none of you taking this seriously? "

By now, the commotion has reached camp. Ferndance pokes her head in, seeking an explaination. She thinks the whole clan should hear what happened. " Our Leader, " he raises his voice. " Attacked Sunstar! Lilacfur did the same to Wolfsong, of all cats! The gathering ended because of us. StarClan is pissed, and we apparently leave giving RiverClan our support! " Unconsciously, she's began to pace, tredding a small circle near camp's entrance. She didn't want a war. Didn't want more lost lives and lost eyes... she wanted to enjoy the prey while it was warm. She wanted to...
 

What an occasion. Action-packed right down to its dying moments, tonight's gathering should rightly leave a lasting mark - most of all in the consequences that have yet to be realised.

Chilledstar has gone and pried ShadowClan's trajectory away from the neutrality it has known for so long. It's bound to cast a ripple effect. Something akin to a snowball tumbling down the mountainside, rapidly accumulating mass as it barrels onwards. Far-reaching, irreversible, inexorable. No longer shrouded in isolationism or relegated to the sidelines, it is anyone's guess if ShadowClan will flourish amidst the fray, or crumble under the pressure.

By this point in his life, there've been too many times where Smogmaw has felt blessed to be home. The marshy enclave provides a degree of peace and tranquillity he has yet to locate elsewhere. Not at gatherings. Not in the forest. Yet the sense largely eludes him tonight, and the pervasive fog above them soon manifests itself in Sharpshadow, Chilledstar, and those clanmates who'd beared witness to StarClan's warning. It manifests itself in the escalating dispute happening in camp's mouth, with doubt voiced in acrid words and met by equally curt rebuttals.

From the shadows, Smogmaw watches on as the exchange tests the limits of propriety and good etiquette.

His tail thrashes at infrequent intervals, an action belying his true unease. How can he remain ambivalent about all this? It is his charge as deputy to protect ShadowClan from potential harm and to exercise sound judgement, even when Chilledstar's own is questionable. He cannot back the choices made tonight, nor will he go along and pretend rash decisions are based in foresight and reason. But he will not voice dissent as Sharpshadow does. The crux, though? ShadowClan stands divided at its uppermost tier, at a time when unity stands as their best defence.

Once his chest is given a few good swipes of the tongue, the deputy creeps closer to the fray. His interruption is subtle and prompted by his former apprentice's insistence to turn this into a stalemate. "Let's come to a common understanding." Cold, shrewd eyes, alive with discontent, regard Chilledstar alone. "WindClan had entered that gathering as the most loathed clan, but ShadowClan left carrying that burden. Goes without saying but... y'know, that doesn't bode well for us at all. Not in the slightest. Let's stop pretending that doesn't matter, and instead decide on where we ought'a go from here."

Smogmaw is less concerned with whether StarClan approves and more preoccupied with ShadowClan's future getting gambled away on one cat's fickle whims. "We need to prepare, 'cause them moor-dwellers aren't the type to let us off easy after that. Border patrols near the moors must be ready to defend their clan at a moment's notice." Doing his darnedest to map out the ramifications and potential paths they can traverse in the aftermath, the deputy frowns in the interim. "We also need t'decide how deep the hurt really runs, and if WindClan needs to pay for Orchidbloom." War is no empty threat right now. There's blood to be spilt—on ShadowClan's claws, preferably—but there nonetheless.

He need not speak on Lilacfur's own questionable choices. Granted, a medicine cat's nose is best kept in herbs, and interfering with clan-politics at gatherings is a surefire means to court chaos and turmoil. Wolfsong spoke like a warrior and got treated like one, but now StarClan must meddle for his sake? When they haven't spared ShadowClan a glance thus far? Slippery, their starry forebears—slipperier still their reasons and concerns.

Smogmaw finishes with a final question for Chilledstar. Not a test, nor a challenge to their leadership. Rather, a plea for clarity that'll cut through this fog. "Will we be keeping our claws to ourselves?" he inquires, the bridge above his nose furrowing with disquiet. "Or will we not?"

 
Shouting stirs her from her nest in the nursery. She blinks the sleep from her eyes, dozing still, until she notices the cloud-covered skies. A pregnant moon glows heavy against its veil, illuminating the backs of the returning warriors. Sharpshadow is bristling, the spikes of his pelt rattling like quills, while Chilledstar paces, swings their head from side to side and pierces those who oppose them with glinting ice-colored eyes. Marblekit crambles out of her moss after Ferndance, confusion contorting her features. The story begins to fall into place, slowly... "Lilacfur? What did you do?"

She ambles into the poorly-lit clearing, watching Duckshimmer wreathe herself around the bristling lead warrior Sharpshadow. She tells him not to worry, but Briarthorn's voice is like nettles in her ears. "There's no pride for our Clan to be found tonight."

Next moon, Marblekit will be attending the Gathering. She'll sit where Wolfsong does, where Starlingheart does. Would a cat angry at her Clan raise their claws to her ear? She lifts a paw and brushes it over the appendage in question, her mouth quirking into a frown. Smogmaw begins to intercept the warriors, and he turns his face toward Chilledstar, asking for action. What will they do?

  • ooc:
  • pcAn1D5.jpeg
  • Marblekit, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 5 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
    — mentored by n/a ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
    — shadowclan kit, formerly a rogue. siltcloud x lilacfur, gen 3.
    — currently mated to n/a.
    — penned by Marquette.

    sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.


 


Her eyes widened at Sharpshadow's words, trying to take in his meaning, trying to understand what it meant for ShadowClan and her kin. Ears swiveled and flattened at how loud her voice had become, her pupils finding Chilledstar and Lilacfur as accusations were thrown their way. Like a confused pup, she tilted her head. "...Why?" She would be the first to admit WindClanners could use a good smack, but with StarClan as a witness, it seemed... criminally stupid. So stupid that even the cat at war with common sense couldn't help pausing and judging with incredulous blinks and a gaping mouth. Besides the obvious, should the stars seek divine retribution there and then on her clan, then Shade and Blood would have been caught in the crossfire, babies condemned by a mentor and leader. It's another question she hopes is answered, even if no conclusion would satiate the ick. Smogmaw moved to intervene and Ferndance's attention relented, finding the blue tabby instead. 'Oh... I didn't even think about the other clans...' How they felt about ShadowClan at that moment. There was a slight bristle to her spine, knowing how she'd been demoted for being a 'liability' on the borders when her clanmates decided to do much worse in the eyes of all four groups.

There was nothing to be done about that now, nor the fact that Chilledstar and Lilacfur were eager with their claws. As eluded by Smogmaw, all that could be done was prepare for the future. Will ShadowClan keep their claws to themselves, or will they not? "Actually..." she mewed quietly, hoping to catch the Deputy's attention. "It's not just Orchidbloom. They've been strutting about being all hoity toity for a while... even with Halfpaw and Laurelpaw... we never got our revenge for them, Sunstar got our revenge for us instead. It's not proper, getting someone else to kill for you like that, but we've been hoveled up here for so long... it's like we've forgotten how to actually stand up for ourselves." Her tail lashed with an agitated mirth, a clarity of mind feeling just as good as the anticipation of blood in her future. "We can hit them where it hurts... for everything." For the paranoia she felt for her own kittens, for the insults and the trespassing, for being as humourless as an old oak. "Their herbs." If the other clans knew of the injuries WindClan had caused, then it seemed fair. An eye for an eye, or rather, an eye for a boatload of medicine.

/ ninjad
 
Last edited:
  • Wow
  • Love
Reactions: willie and Floppie
˚₊‧ ⛧ Ashenfall's stance is low—lower than usual—as their miserable band of scolded Shadowclanners trudge back to camp beneath the dimmed light of the full moon. He felt like a kitten again, being toted around by his scruff, dragged into the spotlight as amongst the cats Starclan was most disappointed in tonight. I didn't do anything...! he thought with a disgruntled sniff. He gave thanks for every measly piece of prey he caught, he worked daily to honor their passed clanmates, yet he was being dragged around by the thoughtlessness of his higher-ups. Upon their return, he sat sulkily in a darkened corner, watching with bitter-flavored interest as the councilmembers snipped and snapped at each other the moment they passed the bramble wall.

His realization would be similar to Briarthorn's, the reality that this was it. He blinked slowly at the unimpressive state of them all, Sharpshadow's spiking pitchy outbursts, the admission of lying from Chilledstar, the non-apology from Lilacfur even after the sky itself scolded her in front of the whole forest, Duckshimmer's casting off blame to tend to Sharpshadow's feelings.

Hm. They were just as stupid as he was. How... disappointing.

Ashenfall was inclined to agree with Briarthorn's stick-in-the-mud rationality this time, grumbling himself, "If Starclan punishes us, we'd have no one to blame but ourselves..." Blaming a bunch of dead cats that couldn't come down and speak to defend themselves seemed uncouth, even casting the latent heresy aside.

Smogmaw's entrance blusters off the leaflitter of irritation sticking to his pelt, but with it pushed a heavy stone of dread into the pit of his stomach. This meant bloodshed. Until now, Ashenfall did not think of the consequences of this night outside of the judgment cast by their starry ancestors. "...War?" he glanced around with widened eyes. Would this truly be the breaking point in their tenuous 'peace' along their monster-reeking border? His thoughts flickered toward blinding, thicketed undergrowth and the terrible weight of claws on his shoulders and jaws around his neck. They'd lifted in a moment, only to be replaced by the bombarding scent of blood.

Everyone else was dead, now.

He schooled his face into something resembling the affronted pout he wore minutes earlier and kept his mouth shut as the decision was hashed out, trying to focus solely on the words exchanged and his own internal griping on the sick feeling suddenly wracking his stomach.

  • OOC: all ic opinions, hes mopey teenmaxxing rn
  • 29y3n1.png
  • ashenkit . ashenpaw . ashenfall
    — he/him. 15mo warrior of shadowclan. formerly mentored by smogmaw
    — smogmaw x halfshade. littermate to applejaw, swansong & garlicheart. older brother of thornpaw, halfpaw, and laurelpaw
    — muted blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
    — sarcastic, sharp-eyed, sulky, nostalgic, faithful, impulsive, candid, provocative, remorseful
    — "speech", thoughts
    — penned by eezy
 
Flintwish enters not long after his companion, trailing after Ashenfall's mottled figure with brimstone in his eyes. What a first gathering for a new warrior! What a spectacle of hate and irrationality! But Flintwish is neither loving nor rational herself, and the fire in her belly is kindled by simple slights: Granitepelt must have left with all of your sense, scarce as it was. Granitepelt, the bogeyman that WindClan tauts around, lauding themselves as the first to see his evil, the first to rescue ShadowClan from him. Granitepelt, the first cat to point to when things go awry. Granitepelt, the first cat to point to when another Clan wants to boost their own ego. ShadowClan's just a bunch of Granitepelts. But Flintwish resents that notion — because of them, he is the most like Granitepelt, and he has carried that burden his whole life, and nobody else should be allowed to wallow in that misery. It's his misery, not theirs.

But beyond these offenses, ShadowClan has also made itself a prime target for WindClan's continued bullying. Sharpshadow is the first to speak on it, her outburst shrieking but not undeserved. Really, Flintwish agrees with her — Chilledstar had made a great show of their support for RiverClan with their words, had made a great show of their hatred for WindClan with that blow across Sunstar's face. Riverclan. You have ShadowClan's support. That is what they'd said, and yet, and yet...

Now they refute it. Lying, they claim. But why? Who could have known they were lying? What sense did it make to flag their support for one clan while inviting the ire of another? They scold Lilacfur for the same crime they'd committed themselves. They anticipate a nasty leafbare. Flintwish's frown curdles. "Hypocrite! You started it," she hisses at her leader, stare hard. Stupid hypocrite. And Duckshimmer is no better with her cloying sympathy. Briarthorn scolds them, rightfully, and really Flintwish feels inclined to follow her away, but.... He remains at Ashenfall's side, hard stare burning through his clanmates as they speak in and out of turn.

She surprises herself as Smogmaw speaks and she listens with rapt attention. Maybe it is the fact that Chilledstar's judgment seems to be failing; maybe it is the fact that the other Clans hate ShadowClan tangibly; whatever it is, it clicks into place, and Flintwish finally acknowledges Smogmaw as deputy without first loathing him. The loathing comes later, of course, but it at least stalls itself enough for her to listen to him without judgment. Will they be getting their claws wet with moorland blood? Or won't they?

Ashenfall seems chilled by the idea of war, but Flintwish's own heart beats in rhythm with marching drums. It would not be right to exact his misery on WindClan through war; would not be right to risk the lives of his clanmates for the sake of settling his own fiery dispute. But the idea of tearing into WindClan for touting Granitepelt's name about like some kind of trophy in one breath and plague in the next... he would love to silence them himself, really. How does it feel, when you see your claws cut another cat? Granitepelt had asked him once, after scoring his own claws through her shoulder. It feels good, she had replied. She had meant it then. She thinks she would mean it very much now.

The white-tipped tail flickers like flame as Ferndance pitches in her own ideas. "WindClan has a lot to feel sorry for," he agrees. There is an oily snake in his belly. They do have a lot to feel sorry for, and Flintwish is tired of feeling like a kicked dog. The gathering feels like a window into his own history of suffering — maybe now ShadowClan would understand what they'd inflicted on him as a kitten. Maybe war against WindClan would be a healthier outlet than fighting with his clanmates.

4d5460.png
  • 75031035_BeF7hdAHa966CWF.png

    flintkit . flintpaw . flintwish
    — he / she / they ; warrior of shadowclan
    — short-haired solid blue tom with low white and blue/green heterochromatic eyes
    — "speech" ; thoughts
    — chibi by sixbane, signature by dreamydoggo
    — penned by meghan
 

Sharpshadow's prattle has rounded the attention of the rest of their Clan, voices of the confused tuning into those who swayed between disappointed, fearful, righteous.

Which one did she fall into?

When she looked at her daughter, wearing the face of the very she-cat who aided the tom who's name wrung like venomous spittle, she felt it all too harshly. Next moon Wolfsong would meet her, know her kin for more deadly reasons than not. She may have already placed a blanket of shame over her path, or, if Wolfsong knew she would wield her claws over her sisters honor, she was capable of more for her children.

"WindClan was not kind this night, they were corrected." Her voice remained steadily neutral, and looked to Flintwish as she burst from her frustrations. The lead approached, a single step, but paused in favor of staying near Marblekit instead. "Nothing will happen to you, Starlingheart and I will protect you."


 
Smogmaw's presence demanded attention. And Sharpshadow would always give it to him, regardless of how annoying it was to do so. Let's come to a common understanding. The warrior's lips purse. Easier said than done. Sharpshadow has learned that Smogmaw actually could shut up sometimes. He tells them only what he's willing to tell. At least he's talking... sense. Maybe the most of it of anyone here. It's about as vindicated as he would let Sharpshadow feel. So she takes it. Weary eyes blink, okay. A scrap of calmness in her gaze is for Smogmaw, only.

He understood. He understood that they should be afraid. She snorts. Why would Orchidbloom deserve such retaliation for her eye, when so many cats have gone without it so far? Stupid is about the only thing she could call it. She glances to Ferndance, whom right now, despairingly, she was more willing to listen to her than to Lilacfur or Chilledstar. ...The bar was about as low as it could be. He understands what she means. Understands what she's saying for once, but then, it's too far.

" No, " Sharpshadow says. ...As if she had the authority to say so. She shrivels up shortly after, reeling backward as if Chilledstar would give her matching scars for her single word, but that doesn't really happen. A frown is angled toward Flintwish. She pities Marblekit - made to worry in the last moon before she's supposed to. Ashenfall seems to go pale at Smogmaw's mutterings of war as if he hadn't said it first. Whatever. A narrowed gaze is shot Smogmaw's way. He tries to search him, and finds... ambivalence. That same apathetic set of the mouth and grimy face that's left her uncertain this entire time. If they agreed on something before, maybe they could agree again. " You – They – They were just on fire, " he stammers. " Let – Let them keep the herbs they already have." Why the Medicine Cat is the one ShadowClan seemed insistent on bothering, she had no idea.

" Sootstar is who I would've wanted to punish... " he grits. And if Chilledstar wanted him to look at them while he questioned them, fine. " I don't care to do something like that to Sunstar. " But of course... He'd do whatever ShadowClan tells him to. Some dog he is.
 
everyone keeps talking around them and they find themself not wanting to listen anymore. they are listening, they've heard everything everyone has said and they don't know what it is that everyone wants. their eyes blink very slowly, dull and yet filled with rage all at once. they draw their tongue over their muzzle, lashing their tail one last time.

"hypocrite? hm."

they repeat. they did start the fight this time but they had not started the hatred that rages for windclan. windclanners would be lucky if they got anything else from chilledstar, because even in their kindest hour, they would hate those stupid rabbit munching cats. always. they have caused so much pain and strife for everyone around them and though they wish to rid themself fully of them... there are innocents there. they are not sootstar. they never will even pretend to be.

"i want revenge as the rest of you do. but they need their herbs. and there are innocent kits within their clan that have not hurt us. feel how you want, but I refuse to let my clan be responsible for such angst."

be the bigger cat, chilledstar. that's what they're doing. tch. they hate it.

"i'm done talking about this. i don't regret what I did and i don't have to explain myself to anyone but the stars, and they've already heard my pleas. go do something useful."

and with that, they stormed off. they no longer have any desire to be here.

// out!

———————---***i try to live in black and white***———————---

  •  
  • black feline with a white marking across their face, a white chin, a white right front paw, and blue eyes. chilledstar is covered in scars, the most prominent ones being the one across their face, and the one across their neck.
    47 moons old; ages the 3rd every month
    they / them pronouns
    aromantic / homosexual ; currently not looking
    child of JAGGED and RAVEN
    shadowclan ; loyal to shadowclan ; other info if applicable
    mildly difficult to befriend ; trusts barely anyone; trusts no one outside of shadowclan
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed